#apocalyptic whump

[redd956]

Apocalyptic Whump

(Totally not pulled from my personal “A Series” ;) )

Falling from a high place while trying to run away from threat

Character(s) cradling a sickly dying character knowing that no matter how hard they look medicine has already been scavenged weeks ago

Character getting really happy to find a dog, only to drop the eagerness when it begins to snarl at them

Character getting pulled through a boarded up window

Characters whispering amongst each other, trying to decide whether or not to let an injured person continue to tag alongside them

Begging another character to end their life after receiving an apocalyptic infection

Characters rejoicing at getting something as simple as a TV, radio, or telephone to work. They’re pushing each other, jumping up and down, and completely forgetting how quiet they’re supposed to be.

Character(s) dragging around an infected individual trying to convince each other that maybe there is hope, while the infected character slowly and painfully turns. Maybe they do turn, and the group still drags around the husk that is them, if it is even truly a husk.

Fighting over the little things, fuel, food, etc.

A rescue helicopter pulling in character(s), they’re so in shock that they say nothing and barely even more for their rescuers

A character having to walk and continue with an outrageous injury, because they have no other choice

Not being able to wash the blood off of them unless they search for a water source large enough

Characters refusing to travel together out of the fear that they’ll likely lose each other anyway

A large group deciding that they need to kick someone out because they can’t scavenge enough resources

Finally meeting the first soul they’ve seen in forever, only for them not to speak the same language, jumping up and down and waving happily anyway. Body language will do.

[jennyyy007]

SACRIFICE *ೃ༄

cw: apocalypse, zombie apocalypse, cruel whumper, obedient whumpee, defiant whumpee

- Idk if anyone ever wrote something like that but i thought a whumpee and whumper in a zombie apocalypse sounds fun!!

———————————————————————

“Can’t we take a break? My feet hurt and- a-“

Whumpee gets cut off as the stronger guy grabs them by their throat, squeezing it to let just enough oxygen flow through their airways.

“And what?.. you’re hungry? You need sleep? Guess what whumpee. I don’t fucking care”

He spits before gripping a bit tighter, pushing whumpee to the dirty forest floor. Adding another scratch to their collection of injuries.

Their whole body is covered by them, red, blue, green and purple bruises. Scars and scratches. Cuts which would long be infected if whumper wouldn’t allow whumpee to use the med kit sometimes.

“I-I’m sorry I just-“

Their ears ring for a few seconds after the kick their received to their head, making them fall down on their side. Immediately whumpee curls up, whimpering.

“Shut up and get your ass moving. The sun just went down we can walk a bit longer.”

Whumper says as he steps over the sobbing whumpee on the floor, grabbing their collar and lifting them up. Slap.

“Stop crying”

Whumper orders them as he pushes them forward. They almost stumble over a tree branch before catching their step and starting to walk again.

“Pathetic…”

Whumper mumbles as he follows their pitiful state.

—————————————————————

“I wanted the chicken stew you greedy fuck!”

Whumper yells as he slaps the plastic bowl out of whumpees hands. The warm beans spill all over the messy stone floor as the metal bowl crashes down, making whumpee flinch.

They look down at the spilled food before tears build up in their eyes, they make a soft cry, and a second one. Whumpee starts to sob, trying their best to control themselves as whumper looks at the warm bowl of chicken stew, pointing to it.

They walk over to it before picking it up, the smell of it making their stomach grumble. Their hand trembles a little as whumpee holds the bowl out for whumper to take.

He grabs it without thanking whumpee before starting to eat.

“C-.. can we share it?”

Whumpee asks, their high pitched voice shaking. The food looks so good and they haven’t eaten in two days..

Whumper has to try his best not to spit out his food as he hears that question leaving whumpees mouth. The man almost chokes on his food before he manages to swallow it, tilting his head a little to look in whumpees eyes.

Their knees shake as they’re still standing in front of whumper. Tears running down their bruised cheeks.

“Why the fuck would we need to share? Your food is right there. Dumb dog”

He mumbles as he continues to eat his food quickly.

Whumpee turns their head to the puddle of red beans. Unable to prevent another sob escaping their cracked lips.

But they decide to stop arguing and just eat before whumper isn’t so kind to still let them have their lunch.

Whumper chuckles, grinning disgustingly as he amuses himself watching whumpee getting down on their knees and scooping the food up with their dirty hands, hand feeding themself.

“Disgusting”

Whumper sneers as he moves to scratch the last bit of chicken stew out of the bowl.

“Y-… youre dis.. d-disgusting”

Whumpee stutters, not eating anymore.

Whumpers amused expression drops to an extremely annoyed one. He gets up before walking over to whumpee.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

He asks, rage in his voice before whumpee gets on their feet, attempting to look threatening in any way.

“I-I hate being your companion- I-I hate you!”

Whumpers blood boils as he opens his mouth to say something. But whumpee’s faster.

“I should h-have never h-helped you! I-I should have just let you get k-killed by the infected!”

Whumpee yells before whumper grips their face, puffing up their cheeks as he glares in their eyes.

“You’d be nothing without me. I provide you food. I protect you! And you dare to complain about the way I treat you?!”

He yells before throwing whumpee down on the floor, their face landing in the puddle of food.

——————————————————————

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Whumpee starts to feel more and more exhausted as they keep running. Every breath feels like their lungs might explode any second.

“W-.. wait p-please-“

They say, crying as whumper puts more and more distance between them. The man tries to shoot as many of the infected as possible without hitting whumpee.

He just needs to reach the door. Then he’s safe.

“Whumper- p-please!”

They cry out weakly as whumper finally reaches the door. Pushing it open, while in the same moment whumpee stumbles over their own feet and crash to the floor. They make a small yelp as their ankle twists and they try to drag their body further.

Panting heavily they only manage to flip on their back as the infected gets on top of them, biting their shoulder.

Whumper can hear their horrific screams from behind the blocked door. He knows this is cruel. But he doesn’t care. This whole world is cruel. Using whumpee to save themselves is something anyone would have done. They’re weak. There’s no use for them in this brutal world.

Still.. whumper decides to unblock the door and step outside again. He killed every one of the infected following the both of them except for the one right after whumpee.

He slowly steps closer before shooting the undead man right in his head, his body slumping off of whumpee and onto the floor.

The chunks of flesh already bitten out from whumpees shoulder looks nasty.

And whumper can’t hide his expression of disgust as he observes it.

Whumpee makes a weak sob as they look up at the man. Shaking heavily as they’re loosing blood fast. They’ll either die of blood loss. Or because of infection. And whumper can’t risk the second option.

“I-.. d-d’nt w-wannnt to d-di- die”

Whumpee stutters as whumper raises his gun, pointing it down at them.

He doesn’t have a look of remorse on his face as he wraps his finger around the trigger.

“I’m better off without you”

Bang

———————————————————————

@a-living-canvas @catnykit

[whumpsoda]

Just A Little Something!!

This is for some old ocs that I had a dream about and got some inspiration for!! I just really wanted to write this :3 lemme explain a little bit!!

cw: mentions of cannibalism, death

So this is Rufus and Elodie! Basically they live in a post apocalyptic world overtaken by creatures who inhabit dead bodies and are zombie like in the way that they have the constant urge to eat humans :] Rufus gets killed and taken over by one of these monsters, and this takes place with Elodie coming to visit him :3

——————

Elodie did her very best to walk as straight as possible, following the security down the maze of hallways, but the reality of the situation seemed to have begun getting to her. Sweat was seeping thick into pools on her clothes, relentlessly she was gnawing on the inside of her lip, and she almost believed to be getting lightheaded with her worries.

The air was sterile, filling her nostrils with the scent of a chill and cleaning solution. Licking her chapped lips, she counted the doors as they made their way past each one.

One.

Ten.

Fifteen.

She swallowed, gulping down thick saliva that rolled over her throat.

The door they stopped before was tall, much taller than her - and fairly thin. Metal, shiny, and reflective, too.

They were speaking to her, the guards, most likely warning her of how dangerously stupid this all was, and she nodded along ignorantly. Better to do that than get further caught up in her own anxieties.

A moment later, the door shut swift to the floor with an audibly striking click behind her, sending her into the tiniest of a flinch.

Clearing her throat, she met her son’s gaze. His eyes weren’t their deep, hypnotic brown anymore, rather a sparklingly unnatural yellow that worked to put you on edge. “Hey there, sweetie.” She began, taken aback by the crack of her voice, gritting it back. “How are you feeling?”

Eyes twitching, he shifted in his seat - at least, the most he could manage to with all of the restraints - his breathing audibly heavier around the sort of muzzle strapped around his mouth. Some sort of mask stemmed from it, straps criss crossing every inch of his face, save for his eyes.

It was the most important aspect, him getting any chance to even come close to biting her would hinder any chance of her seeing him ever again, but the fact that they had him kept like some wild animal did nothing to ease.

“It’s okay, honey, I know you must be a bit nervous.” Could he even understand her anymore? “I guess I am too, which is pretty silly. I mean, it’s just you.” Was she that stupid or just doing her darnedest to convince herself of it?

Flashing him a gentle smile, she did her best to ignore the fact that he gave not even the slightest of one in return. Without any speckle of recognition in his face, a slick, guttural growl slipped from his throat.

“I brought you something.” Stealing another step closer, she almost missed the hitch of his heavy breath as she presented him with his gift. “They almost didn’t let me bring it in. I fought them on it though. You know me.”

She chuckled, just a bit, and he cocked his head. Almost in surprise, she thought, but also more like he was inspecting his prey.

To her disappointment, he only stole a second of a glance at the book in her hands before staring wide-eyed back at her. A spot of drool dribbled out from the bottom of the leather over his face. She winced.

“It’s a book, you see? You’re favorite, from when you were little.” Dramatically, just as he enjoyed when he was just a mere few feet tall, she showed off the book to him with enthusiasm.

Furrowing his brows with a look of desperation, he rattled the metal strapping him in place with a strangled whine. A glimmer of a craze was evident beyond his sideways, slit like pupil, a spark of insatiable hunger.

She held out her hands to him, as if there was anything she could have done to ease his suffering. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay. It’s just mommy.”

Elodie made the foolish mistake of getting far too close. Saliva plip plopped to the tile, running down his neck furiously. Breath swiftly heaving in and out, he gargled a ravaged snarl, sending her stumbling back.

Rigid for a moment, she watched as he soon calmed, even if only by the slightest.

One breath in, one breath out.

“It’s just me, honey,” Elodie hardened her iron grip on the book in her hands, knuckles clammy and cold. “mommy.”

A croak, gritty and scratching a crawl up his throat began, deep and eerie, not at all Rufus’ voice. As the sound twisted, curling over itself, it almost sounded like something. Almost as if he parroted her.

A hand cupped her mouth, tears pushing at her eyes. “Mommy? Is that- is that what you said?” She couldn’t help but sink to a kneel, reaching a hand to correct his hair.

Snapping, Rufus nearly cracked through the cuffs keeping his wrists stuck to his chair. He roared wildly, growling with a starving desperation that sunk into the walls around them. The rests grunted as his nails dipped and curved into the metal, grip inhumanly strong.

The guards were quick to rush in this time, practically carrying Elodie out the door by her shoulders.

She couldn’t believe it. He’d said something.

Maybe Rufus wasn’t all gone.

[generic-whumperz]

Benny (Character Sheet)

*Updated 12/22/2024

(Picrew)

Playlist | Moodboards | Masterlist | Character Info | Lexicon

Overview: In a post-apocalyptic world where an outbreak of debated origin has transformed people into flesh-eating monsters, Benny, a fisherman from Cajun-country Southern Louisiana, is just an ordinary man trying to support his family during difficult times. But his fate is forever changed after he catches the attention of Arcadian Baron Xavier LeBlanc after winning a brutal fight against a horde of afflicted in the fighting pits. His victory leads to an offered position as one of Xavier's concubines, but he soon discovers that this position involves more than just hedonistic sex parties. Benny discovers Xavier's corruption and nefarious activities, including the Baron's connection to the mysterious disappearances of several local women. Outraged, Benny decides to take matters into his own hands. After risking it all and exposing Xavier's wrongdoings to the town, the ensuing revolt claims the lives of Arcadian envoys and vassals alike. Xavier, fed up with Benny’s insolence, retaliates by sentencing Benny to a life of slavery and selling him to a buyer on the West Coast.

Full name: Benôit Onésiphore Boudreaux (Benny)

Role: Second lead protagonist (Whumpee)

Date of Birth & sign: February 10, 2005 (27), Aquarius (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: bi (and DTF)

Height: 6'

Weight/body type/build: working man's build—very fit and muscular. Unfairly ripped, is good googly moogly ridiculous. (How does it feel to be creator's favorite?)  

Hometown: Atchafalaya, Toussaint Parish, Louisiana (re-used name, fictional place in the southern boot of LA area)

Fav genre of music & anthem: blues rock; Born On The Bayou by: CCR

Family Members: Oldest child and only son. Both parents deceased. Younger sisters in order from oldest to youngest: Genevieve, Sabine, Estelle, Cordelia. Adopted children whose families died after the outbreak. Father & big brother figure 2-in-1. (All surviving Boudreaux family members + adopted kids are in the infographic below.) Family over everything mentality. Provider.

Surviving family tree:

Left/right handed: left

Occupation: fisherman, helps run family-owned bait & tackle shop

Ethnicity (+ American): Indigenous (predominantly  Choctaw), Cajun/Creole (mixed colonial French, Native American, and Haitian ancestry). Appearance-wise, looks unmistakably Native. 

Hair color & length: long, straight, thick black hair, hits mid-back. Usually tied in a low pony, braided, or thrown up in a messy bun. Facial hair: none to be had. Has little to no body hair and looks like a smooth baby dolphin. Has never used a razor in his life, plucks random hairs as they surface.

Hygiene: smells like swamp water and fishing boat gunk 90% of the time. Bathes daily and spends a lot of time taming his mane and doing hair masks. Decently hygienic (having four sisters), but isn't afraid to get dirty and wrestle in some mud.   

Eye color: russet brown. Deep-set, thin, almond-shaped eyes. Has "sly eyes."  

Skin tone: light brown, golden tan with warm undertones.

Facial features: oblong head with high cheekbones. Wide, full lips with heavy upper lip. Hooked nose. Flat, thick eyebrows. Round, slightly pointed ears (no, not like an elf) with free lobes.  

Mannerisms: very animated and talks with his hands, uses a lot of body language. Hums, whistles, and sings songs at random.   

Nervous ticks: shifts and wiggles around more. Rocks in a chair if sitting. Paces. Runs fingers through hair, plays with hair. Flexes hands and toes. Shrugs, rolls shoulders. Cracks neck and fingers, rolls head in a circle or a back/forth motion. Blinks a lot and shakes head. Bounces knee. Talks more and rambles, may repeat a question reworked in different ways, *disbelief*. Uses inappropriate humor to cope. Grimaces. Stretches, may start dancing/tapping feet. Drums fingers.

Posture: relaxed and casual. Slumps back in seat or leans forward, elbows on knees. Has an unfortunate tendency to manspread.

Style: "It fits? I gets." Nearly everything is stained and a hand-me-down. Usually in smelly fishing gear. When not, in a white tank or T-shirt with sleeves cut off, old ripped jeans, tattered old boots, or no shoes at all. All shorts are old jeans he cut (jorts go hard). Tribal print and lumberjack flannels, buttoned jackets, Carhart vests, old sweatshirts, wrinkled and faded T-shirts, beaded jewelry, and custom jackets made by his fashionista sister, Estelle. 

Health: initially very healthy with no conditions or allergies

Piercings/tattoos: piercings—2 holes (lobe and upper lobe), tragus on both ears and a Prince Albert (🍆). Tattoos (so many, all B&W): strand of 5 traditional-style flowers on upper chest, just below collar bones. Barbed wire in the shape of a heart on the left peck over the heart with a small cherub pulling back bow as if about to shoot an arrow at it on the right shoulder. Traditional Choctaw tribal pattern strip encircling right bicep. Beaded armband with two feathers tied in the middle—starts on upper-mid left arm and stops about 4" short from elbow. Mermaid with shell crown on top left forearm. Optical illusion crocodile swimming half-in, half-out of water on top of right arm. Optical illusion fishing hook stuck in skin on outer left wrist. Tomahawk with peace pipe end on left side over ribs. Scorpion around belly button, crawling down towards below waistline. Sun and moon kissing surrounded by clouds on mid left thigh. Shrimp above outer left ankle. (Tat sheet & references below.) 

Birthmarks/scars: scar across left cheek. "X" slave branding scar on right hand.  

Tattoo Placement Sheet (+ Scars):

Tattoo reference pics from Pinterest:

(sorry, yeah he has Pinterest tats, I’m not a professional)

Language(s): English, Cajun French, standard French, Chahta Anumpa (Choctaw language), American Sign Language

Personality: extroverted, adaptable, friendly and charismatic, good-natured, energetic, sincere, outspoken, optimistic, excitable, loyal, motivated, facetious, compassionate, quick-witted, patient, confident, genuine (never pretends to be someone he isn't), but can be a schmoozer

Vices:  weed, moonshine/hooch, casual sex, drunk fishing.

Voice: loud. Rich Cajun twang, smooth and silky despite the volume at which he speaks.

Smells like: when dirty—swamp, mildew, and fish. When clean—earthy scent with aquatic undertones: Spanish moss, evergreen and Cyprus, soliflore gardenia, and blue gum eucalyptus.    

Face claim(s): (young) Eddie Spears (top row), Michael Hudson (bottom row, big shoutout to @3-2-whump for finding Michael!)

Character inspiration: nothing in particular; I just thought I was missing something, and thus, Benny was born and slowly revealed himself to me in parts. I knew I needed a wild swamp man.

Other: has wrestled alligators and isn't afraid of shit besides catfish (his mortal enemy). Harmonica champion. Consumes ungodly amounts of shrimp. 

 

Character sheet filled out from his POV

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

The world is recently post-apocalypse. The phone satellites are all down and many, many buildings have been destroyed. Whumpee — for whatever reason — got sliced by glass. They are bleeding heavily and know nothing about first aid.

They are panicked but somehow got themself into an abandoned department store. There, they quickly rummage through the store to find first aid supplies and a book. They sit on the floor and examine the wound, comparing it (through scrunched-up eyes) to the book’s diagrams. There are tissues deeper than skin showing. The first aid book indicates that the type of injury Whumpee has will have to be treated in this way:

“‘Apply constant pressure to the wound until the bleeding stops and call emergency services— Emergency services?!” Whumpee, even more of a sobbing mess than before, throws the book at the ground, “So I guess I’ll keep ‘applying pressure’ until I FUCKING DIE.”

[defire]

Introducing Ghost of Seattle

(This is my FIRST self-published book ok)

(As always this book is highly stylized per the main character, so this time it's terse, short, casual, and unemotional.)

Chapter 1

Content: Child abuse, forced to fight, death threats, parent abusing child

“We’ll bring back civilization, eventually.”

After  the bombing, Seattle had become a ripped, rubble-filled wasteland. That's what people said about it, anyway. To Chase, it was a jungle of rebar, cement blocks, and loot. It was getting close to dusk, and he skipped around patches of broken glass by hopping across the boulders that made piles leading up to the buildings they'd fallen from.

Chase was trying to get back before the pit fights. He lowered his head against the setting sun so the light wouldn’t hurt his sensitive eyes, allowing his white hair to drape over them. He set his jaw, jumping around  the familiar piece of rebar that stuck out here and tripped up the other people in his gang, the Guards.

In the pit fights, the Guards mostly just punched and beat on each other, till one gave up. Chase's dad, Merc, was the leader of the gang that held this chunk of buildings and land. They were the best-armed and toughest gang in Seattle. Chase was proud of Guard.

There were still ten more people waiting to fight for the extra rations that Merc put up for the winners. They trusted him to teach them to fight like a team, to arm and feed them, and so far they were right to.

Chase trotted into the main street of the compound in time.

He came up close with big eyes to look into the mud ring. Ron was getting the shit punched out of him again. Ouch. At least he was guarding his face this time.

Suddenly a familiar hand gripped him by the shoulder. Chase flinched.

"Chase." His father always growled his name. "You like it?"

Chase looked up at his dad. He didn't look mad, so Chase answered.

"They must be so tough."

"They're soldiers." Merc answered as Ron shouted surrender. "Soldiers get knives, rations, and respect."

"I'm going to be a soldier too." Chase added, repeating what his dad always told him.

"Yes," Merc said, gripping both Chase's shoulders tightly. "Starting today."

Chase's stomach dropped as his dad shoved him into the muddy ring. He slipped and fell forward onto his stomach, whacking his elbow.

"Ouch." He grunted, getting up hastily.

He looked up to see Braiden stepping over the grass-line. Braiden was a clumsy twenty-year-old with a slim build but huge fists. Chase liked him usually.

"Chase!" Braiden said, raising both fists in the air with a huge grin. "Finally!"

"Dad?" Chase backed away. No one had taught him how to fight, so the only thing he could do was duck under his arms, maybe even dodge. He knew that much from being around his dad.

Chase glanced back, to see a dark look on his dad's face, mixed with disgust. He shouldn't have fallen down. Chase swallowed and turned back to face Braiden.

Braiden came up and threw a big, predictable punch. Chase brought his elbows up to guard his face. Braiden's fist crashed into his forearm dully, knocking him sideways.

Chase was 9 years old and only 70 pounds; easy to throw around. Chase staggered sideways, caught his balance, and glanced back at his dad, then at Braiden.

He was surprised to see that Braiden had hesitated too.

I'm allowed to dodge, Chase reminded himself. I'm allowed to dodge!

This time when Braiden threw a punch, faster, Chase dodged. Two more haymakers, Chase dodged around them. Braiden, frustrated, punched twice fast, and the second one hit Chase square on the forearms and knocked him back onto his butt. That hurt his tailbone, and he rolled away instinctively, getting up to his hands and feet without balancing, staggering back.

Getting knocked down scared him. That was always when the bad part happened.

Someone caught him by the arm.

"No running away!" Dad yelled at him. He better not embarrass Dad.

"I'm not." Chase found his voice was just a whisper.

Braiden could see that he was scared and took a breath before striding toward him.

"You better defend yourself, Chase!" He said.

He was allowed to defend himself. He bared his teeth, dodged under the punch and grabbed Braiden's thigh. Then he bit him in the side of his torso.

"Aghh!" Braiden shouted, slapping Chase over and over in the head. Chase decided this was working, so he kept biting.

He felt Braiden shift and Chase felt a hard fist come down on the right side of his back. It was hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Braiden took the opportunity to shove Chase off of him and throw him to the ground.

Stomach acid came up into Chase's mouth with the grunt he let out when his back smacked into the scraped ground.

"Middle finger if you surrender, Chase!" Braiden shouted at him.

Chase gave him the finger, panting from the ground.

"I win!" Braiden shouted.

He reached out to give Chase a hand up. Chase was already getting to his feet, and noticed too late, but the gesture was unexpectedly kind. 

As he left the mud pit, he realized he was smiling. 

His father slapped him on the shoulder.

"You're a man now." He said. "I expect you in the morning roll call."

Chase hesitated.

"Does this--does this--"

"What? Spit it out." Merc snapped.

Chase felt his lips go cold.

"Does this mean I'm allowed to defend myself now?"

Merc snorted. 

"You're always--" He stopped short and turned to face Chase head-on. "The hell do you mean, kid?"

Chase cringed.

"In... in... out there... in fights?" He stammered.

Merc bent down in the middle of the group that was watching the next fight, maintaining eye contact with Chase. 

Chase stood frozen, staring into his dad's eyes in terror.

"You ever--" Merc glared as he spoke. "Ever try to turn on me... see how that goes. I'll kill you."

He straightened up, looking down on the tiny 9-year-old.

"What are you waiting for!" Merc shouted.

Chase flinched.

"Go! Do your chores!"

Chase nodded, then saluted--

"Yes sir!" And fled.

Please let me know if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts :)

Buy the book:

Masterpost: Next:

[mj-iza-writer]

This is experimental, and anonymous gave me the idea for doomy and gloomy, and I've been rolling it in my brain for the day. I can't help but brighten the end though. -MJ

Sorry it's long, I put in 'read more' to shorten it. I hope you enjoy.

Post Apocalyptic Whump.

"We'll stop here for tonight", Leader nearly collapsed with the weight of Whumpee on their back, "how are you doing Whumpee?"

"Hmmm", Whumpee moaned.

"That's what I was afraid of", Leader sighed as the team helped get Whumpee down from their back.

"Please just kill me", Whumpee whispered as the team unwrapped their bandaged arm, "I'm slowing you down."

"I'm not doing that", Leader looked over the arm, "we are going to get you medical help, and you will be okay. I promise you. You are just as essential to our team as the rest of us."

Whumpee fell quiet as they looked over the arm.

"I'm not going to sugar coat it. Your flesh seems to be rotting away from your body", the medic carefully moved the arm, "this infection has spread really fast."

"There must have been something more in that rust you got cut on", Leader frowned.

"It hurts", Whumpee looked at Leader and Medic.

Medic pulled out their stash of painkillers and eyed Leader, "we need to get them to that Doctor before I run out of these."

"I'll be okay", Whumpee quickly stated, "I don't need any right now, see if anyone else needs them."

"Whumpee?", Leader sadly scratched Whumpee's head.

"I'll be okay, I know others in our group are hiding their pain. They need it too", Whumpee frowned, "can we wrap that up so I can go to sleep."

The night was long for Whumpee they kept as quietly as possible as the others slept. They thought about the doctor, hoping they would actually help.

'Medical help is scarce nowadays', Whumpee reminded themself, 'I may be too far gone when we get their. They won't want to waste it on me.'

They heard Leader wake up, they faked sleeping.

"I know you're awake", Leader leaned over to them, "you need to get some sleep."

"What if.... what if they won't help us?", Whumpee whispered, "what if I'm too far gone?"

"We can't dwell on that. We can only go there and see. If that happens, then we will think about our next steps", Leader patted their head, "please keep your hopes alive. In our current world, we need to hold onto hope."

Leader wrapped Whumpee in a hug and they both managed to fall asleep.

The next day, they made it to the City of Sanctuary, these were places where many top doctors, scientists, and many others were kept protected. People could come in for a few days at a time for rest and to see the doctors.

"Sanctuary please", Leader almost pleaded as they knocked at the gate.

A screen opened and a face peaked out.

"What do you seek?", the person asked.

"We are five survivors from City D, we seek medical. Four of us need to be checked, but our fifth member has a bad infection on their arm", Leader stated, "we beg of you."

"You said City D, that's a long walk", the person looked at them all, they glanced at Whumpee on Leader's back, "is that the one with the infection?"

"Yes sir", Leader sighed, "you were our closest City of Sanctuary, our closest hope."

"Okay come in", the person closed the screen, then opened the gate to let them in.

As they walked through the settlement, many others sanctuary seekers watched them with saddened faces.

They were led into a private room to rest.

"Let me see the infection and see how bad it is", the person came around to a table and patted it.

Leader carefully set Whumpee down on the table and watched the person unwrap the arm.

Whumpee winced as the bandage pulled rotten skin off. They all watched as the skin dropped to the person's shoes.

"That's not good", the person sighed as they looked over the arm, "I have two people in mind, can you other four wait for us to take care of the arm, or should I bring some doctors to do your checkups as well?"

Leader looked at all the team members. They all agreed that Whumpee would need to be the main priority for right now.

"Whumpee needs to be treated as soon as possible", Leader looked at Whumpee, "we can wait."

Two doctors came in. One instantly looked at Whumpee and left shaking their head.

"That's not good", Whumpee looked at Leader.

"Don't mind them", the second doctor stepped up to the table, "let's see what's going on, my name is Caretaker."

Leader introduced everyone in the group.

"We can't lose Whumpee sir", Leader frowned, "they are important to our group."

"I'll see what I can do", the doctor looked over the arm, "what exactly happened?"

"Our home in City D was attacked by another group, it was burnt down in the end", Medic sighed, "on our way out a few of us got some minor burns. I was able to take care of these. Whumpee got their arm sliced open by some rusty metal. It looked fine at first, and I was treating it as normal. I think there was something in the rust though."

"Are you a doctor?", Caretaker looked up shocked.

"Not quite, I'm a nurse practitioner though", Medic sighed.

"Got you", Caretaker smiled, "I'd hate say it, but I can't save the arm."

Whumpee looked at Leader then looked down.

"Now, now don't look so sad. We have two options. I can amputate this arm to the shoulder and give medicine to fight any infection coursing through your blood. You'll be here for a few weeks while you recover, I'll need to monitor your healing. You'll all receive sanctuary for that long as well.

"What's the second option?", Leader looked at them.

"We offer medicine to Whumpee to make them comfortable until they die. They won't survive much longer like this", Caretaker watched their reactions, "again you will all receive sanctuary until they pass."

"What's the survival rate if you amputate the arm", Leader looked at Whumpee.

"If it's successful and heals well, they have a good chance", Caretaker sat down beside Whumpee, "I can have that arm removed in 60 minutes give or take. A colleague and I will do it together along with a few nurses. We've done this before."

Leader kept staring at Whumpee.

"Whumpee I suggest you let them do the amputation", Medic spoke up.

"It's Whumpee's choice", Leader sighed, "although I agree and don't want to lose Whumpee, they have to be the one losing the arm."

Everyone, including Caretaker, turned to Whumpee, but before an answer could be given the door was slammed open.

"Caretaker, we can't use our services to save a dying person", the doctor that had walked away earlier came in quickly. Clearly, he was eavesdropping.

"What?", Leader looked at then angrily, "is this not a City of Sanctuary. We seaked you out, walked all the way here, and you deny us."

"You four can receive care...."

"Stop", Caretaker cut in, "I will not allow you to stop me from treating this team. I can save them, and I am going to do it. Whether you like it or not."

The person scoffed.

"Go get Benjamin we have a person to save", Caretaker turned to Whumpee, "let's try to amputate, I promise you I think it will work."

The person stormed away as Whumpee nodded.

The team sat outside as the procedure was done. Several teams had come by to talk about their travels, and what was next for this world they were trapped in.

Caretaker and Benjamin came out a while later both grinning.

"It was successful", Caretaker announced, "Whumpee will be out for a while, so we have time to take care of you four."

"Let them be seen first, I'll wait", Leader looked at them, "I want my team to be taken care of."

After the other three were taken care of, Caretaker came out for Leader, who was leaned up against the wall.

Medic came out with a big smile and a fully stocked medical bag.

"Great", Leader grinned.

"You got some goodies", Leader grinned.

Medic nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll see you next", Caretaker opened the door.

Caretaker waited while Leader undressed and got ready for the exam.

"You know you're one of the better leaders that have come through here", Caretaker started to turn to Leader, "you take good care of your te.... what the heck is that?"

Leader smiled weakly, "the day before the world went to hell, I had open heart surgery. I wasn't able to return to have the stitches removed. No one on my team knows about this, and it needs to stay that way."

"May I", Caretaker started to walk over to them.

"Yep that's fine", Leader sighed.

"Your skin has grown around the stitches now, it will hurt a lot to take these out", Caretaker ran their fingers down the stitches.

"Yes I know. I'm fine with them staying their, they don't bother me anymore", Leader sighed, "it's part of me I guess. Please don't tell my team though, I don't need them to worry."

Caretaker studied Leader, "I'm going to say it again, I've seen pretty good leaders come through here, you are a great leader though", Caretaker marveled, "I wish I could help you with that.... do you want me to try."

"No, no. I don't need any open wounds to deal with", Leader frowned, "like I said it doesn't bother me anymore, and I don't have to worry about infections with them left in."

Caretaker shook their head, "okay, um, I guess let's get you taken care of."

Leader stepped out of the room after all was done. The team was waiting outside.

Caretaker came out a few minutes after.

"Whumpee is awake, but a little loopy from the drugs and the infection. I believe they will make a full recovery though", Caretaker looked at Leader, "you made it just in time, any longer would have probably been different.

"Thankyou... for everything", Leader smiled.

Everyone also thanked Caretaker.

"I'll be in to check on you in a while", Caretaker walked away, "I'll bring dinner."

Everyone went into see Whumpee. It would take a while to get use to, they knew that. They were happy to have Whumpee, that's all that mattered.

Later, Caretaker came in with someone else, both carried food.

"This is one of the leaders in this Sanctuary City", Caretaker introduced as they handed the food out.

Leader helped Whumpee, who was struggling to figure out their one arm.

"I need to ask", the cities leader handed one last food item, "I heard one of your team members is a nurse practioner."

"You've kept your team healthy this whole time, that just shows how good you are at your job", the leader continued, "would you be interested in staying in our city."

"Yes", Medic raised their hand as they hurried to eat.

"I-I would, but I can't leave my team they need me", Medic looked at the members.

"You wouldn't have to", the leader continued, "your team can stay here, I understand your hideout was burnt down. You could all stay in our City of Sanctuary. Caretaker can keep an eye on the injured members of the team as well. We need a nurse practitioner here."

"Injured?", Medic looked around, "you mean just Whumpee, right?"

Leader shot a glare at Caretaker.

"Yes Whumpee of course", Caretaker jumped in.

"Can we talk about this and give an answer tomorrow?", Medic replied.

When the five were alone they eyed Leader.

"What do we think", Leader sighed and looked at everyone.

"Where else do we have to go, City D doesn't feel like home anymore", someone replied.

"We traveled all the way here. I was getting sick of being nomadic, honestly", another stated, "we will be close to medicine and have shelter."

"It would be nice to be in a protected area, maybe even get updated quickly on the world's progress", Leader watched Whumpee struggle to open their water canteen, "plus Whumpee may have a better chance in case the infection did spread", Leader reached for the canteen.

Whumpee looked at them all in defeat.

"I think most of us are in agreement, but it is up to Medic. The city seems to be most interested in them", Leader looked at Medic, who was in deep thought, "Medic would be working hard for us to stay here. I will agree with whatever Medic wants to do, and follow their lead."

Whumpee sighed, "I miss my arm", they smiled a little, "I agree with Leader, though. I'll follow what Medic wants to do."

"I have to agree", Medic finally answered, "their isn't much else out their for us. City D was getting to be dangerous, and the nomadic lifestyle isn't safe. We could be in areas where we won't get news and updates", Medic paused.

"I know I will be busy, but that's what I signed up for isn't it? I wanted to help people. This may be my chance to use my skills", Medic looked at Leader, "I think we should stay here, at least as long as we can."

They all sat together quietly, enjoying the peace they felt.

"I have to be honest", Leader finally stated, "it's been something I've kept secret for this long, and I think Caretaker is pulling a few more strings than what we think."

"What do you mean?", Medic looked at them along with everyone else.

"Before all of this, I had open heart surgery. Quite literally the day before", Leader pulled up their shirt to reveal the old stitches, "I was never able to get them taken out after, and I couldn't risk having an open wound."

They all gasped.

"Your skin has grown over it now, that's going to be hard to remove", Medic looked closer, "why didn't you tell us?"

"They never bothered me. It's fully healed, so I let them go", Leader smiled sheepishly, "Caretaker saw them when I had my check up, I'm sure they are going to try to remove them sometime. I might allow it even."

"You're getting these removed", Medic scolded, "you're crazy for letting that go this long."

"It was safer for one thing, instead of going around with opened wounds. It was long healed by the time you joined our group so you wouldn't have been able to do it either. Plus where wasni supposed to go?", Leader argued, "I'll let them take it out when they are ready."

After a while, they all started to relax again. They huddled close together, and within a few minutes, all of them were fast asleep.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @weirdthingweee

[plague-of-insomnia]

Sebardagni Headcanon/AU Idea #001 - Post-Apocalyptic Sickfic AU

It’s no secret the last 7 months or so have not been great for me, and I haven’t been able to write for various reasons, since my health has been bad.

I’m hoping that the second half of 2024 will show some improvement but in the time being I’ve been trying to imagine my fave trio: Sebardagni in various sickfic scenarios

Like I had one in mind that’s not well formulated bc my brain is not working well enough for more than vague shapes of ideas, but it’s post-apocalyptic.

I don’t like that genre generally because as a chronically ill disabled person, I know how absolutely fucked I would be if society collapsed.

However, one of my fave independent novels I ever read featured this concept, and one of the characters had a chronic lung disease so not having regular access to medicine made his life much harder, and put enormous strain on his husband and family.

So I imagined a scenario in which Sebastian, Agni, and Bard have settled in a remote mountain cabin because it’s removed from some of the dangers of the cities, the air is cleaner for Sebastian to breathe a little easier, and there is plenty of food and resources.

But the problem is that they really should move on, but they can’t travel, not with Sebastian sick, and they’re running out of places to scavenge for medicine. One of them always has to stay behind with Sebastian, so only one can go out at a time.

Bard had been increasingly having to go away for days or even weeks at a stretch, going farther and farther from their home base in an attempt to find medicine for Sebastian and other supplies they can’t make or grow themselves.

It makes Sebastian guilty and anxious that one day Bard won’t come back and it’ll be his fault, and it frustrates him that he can’t help more, or that his partners have to sacrifice so much for him. More than once he’s told them to leave him behind, but they both insist they’d rather die with him than abandon him.

I imagined a particular scene where Sebastian’s health has taken a sharp downturn while Agni has been waiting for Bard to return, and it’s getting to be long enough he’s worried maybe this will be the day Bard never comes home.

But he does, all smiles. He didn’t find medicine, at least not what they’d hoped to find, but he did find a treasure trove of things that were under a collapsed shelf in an asian market a few towns over.

Matcha powder, and a lot of it.

Matcha is highly caffeinated, and it’s related to another molecule that’s often used to treat asthma and other lung conditions, because it helps open the airways. Drinking a lot of caffeine can thus help your breathing a little bit. It’s not medicine, but it definitely helps in a pinch.

I imagine Agni grows what he can for Sebastian, various herbs and plants like marijuana that can help him, and despite the world ending and the challenges of their new lives, ultimately they’re happy.

I think it could be a really lovely story, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to write it.

[whump-bunny]

A Choice To Make

CW: Restraints, Drugged Whumpee, Imprisonment, Threats, 15 year old whumpee, whumper is his dad, technically post-apocalypse, human weapon

Synopsis: Everyone was told that Asa was unwell, that he's crazy, and that Adam is treating him with the utmost care. But Bella believes otherwise. So she goes to find Asa herself.

-

She creaks the door open, waiting for the inevitable alarm or siren. But somehow, the silence is even more disconcerting. There, sitting in a chair at the center of the room, is Asa.

From a distance, he looks like less of a human and more of a doll. His black hair falls limply over his face, head lolled down to his chest. His arms and legs seem to dangle from his frame like pipe cleaners, held in place by metal restraints. Restraints that are wholly unnecessary, given his physical state, and must only be there to prove a point.

Bella swallows as she approaches. Her footsteps sound like gunshots in the quiet of the cell. And yet, Asa does not lift his head. Up close, the reason why is obvious. An IV, sharp and glaring, protrudes from the back of his hand. Bella follows the line with her eyes to the bag of clear liquid hanging on a hook above him.

Then she looks back to him, to the boy that she so quickly dismissed. To the boy who was right about Adam all along. With a trembling hand, she nudges Asa’s head up to see his face, expecting to find him fast asleep.

Big brown eyes are staring back at her, hazy and unseeing.

“Jesus Christ…”

Adam did this. Adam turned his own son into a weapon. And when that weapon stopped being useful, he left him here. Restrained, drugged, and so utterly alone. Bella has never been a very emotional girl… but this just might be enough to make her cry. That is, until her sorrow is quickly replaced by rage.

With a huff, Bella rips out Asa’s IV. Golden blood pours out behind it. Bella swears, scanning the room for a bandage, some gauze, paper towel, even. But the cell is as barren as it is tiny. Finally, with a groan, Bella uses her shirt to apply pressure to the wound. It isn't without difficulty. Asa’s blood seeps into her clothes, making her look like she's been gilded. But eventually, the bleeding comes to a stop, and Bella breathes a sigh of relief. All the while, Asa’s enhanced metabolism fights off the remaining drugs. 

“Hnn…” He groans. Bella puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Asa… you alright?”

He moves at a snail’s pace, but sure enough, he lifts his head, blinking in the synthetic light. His eyes land on her. For a moment, there's no recognition, but his mouth forms the word.

“B… Bella?” He whispers.

Bella tries for a smile, but it probably comes out more like a grimace. “Hey, Asa.”

Asa swallows several times, probably buying time for his brain to come back online. Finally, the haze in his eyes seems to clear up completely. He looks at Bella with an awareness that wasn't there before.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, suddenly very serious.

Bella opens her mouth to answer, but finds she doesn't have one. What is she doing here? Asa isn't exactly her friend. She should be in her room, playing video games, drinking coffee, sucking up to Adam when she wants something. But here she is, potentially getting into huge trouble just to talk to a boy she can't stand.

And then she remembers what she saw. The pillars of fire with golden smoke. The news reports of people dying on the streets, before the news went utterly silent. She remembers Adam's cold grin, looking out to the wreckage he had caused. And she remembers what Asa said, all those months ago.

He's not going to save the world, he's going to destroy it. And he's gonna use me to do it. You have to help me.

You have to help me…

He tried to warn everyone, but they didn't listen. Bella didn't listen. She was too blinded by Adam’s mask, his kindly, generous disguise. And now it's too late. As much as Bella hates it, she can't help but feel a crushing guilt.

Maybe that's why she's here.

“I… I was just-” she stutters, lamely. Reaching for a plausible excuse. But luckily, Asa cuts her off.

“How long have I been down here?"

The question catches Bella off guard, but she's thankful for the distraction. She thinks back to the last time she saw Asa, kicking and screaming as Adam dragged him to the basement.

“About two months, I think.”

Asa doesn't seem shocked by that. Just resigned.

“Oh.” He says. An awkward silence falls over the two. Until Asa gasps, meeting Bella’s gaze with renewed intensity. “My dad- the- the serum! Did he do it? Did he release it on the world?”

Bella considers lying, but decides against it. Asa’s already in a cell, the least she can do is be honest with him.

“Yeah… yeah, he did.”

Asa falls silent at that, but the expression on his face makes it obvious what he's thinking. It's all my fault.

“How many…” Asa falters. He can't bring himself to ask. He doesn't need to. Bella knows.

“He released it on the day he locked you down here. Since then… about 80% of the world population has died.” She tells him, trying not to think too hard about the scale of that number. About the children waking up to find their parents cold and unmoving, about the airplanes that fell out of the sky, about the fear and confusion permeating the whole world. Instead, she looks back at Asa and really takes him in. He looks so small in his chair, so… defeated. Like the only thing keeping him from crying is the fact that he has no more tears left to shed. The fact that someone as pathetic as him is technically the cause of the end of the world would be laughable in any other context. But now Bella feels only pity.

“I’m sorry-” She starts, but Asa cuts her off.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He says, with a startling amount of intensity. 

Bella can’t help but be slightly offended. “I came here to visit you, asshole. I didn’t need to come here.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Asa insists, “Dad comes down here every once in a while to feed me. You can’t let him see you.”

Bella bristles, realizing that the feisty and stubborn boy she knew is long gone. Maybe he’s even more of a doll than she thought. 

“He can’t just keep you down here like this, drugged to hell and back. Maybe I can talk to him-”

Asa pales, “No, please don’t. Don’t let him know you saw me. Just go.”

“He’s your father-”

“HE’S A MONSTER!"

Bella falls quiet. They both do.

Asa is the one who breaks the silence.

“Please, Bella… just forget about me. Don’t come back down here. It’s not worth getting on his bad side.” He starts to tear up. “I can’t… I can’t handle anyone else getting hurt because of me.”

Once again, guilt rises to the surface of Bella’s chest. She swallows it down.

“O-okay… I’ll go.” She says. And for the first time since she’d met him, Asa smiles.

“Thank you.”

Bella turns to go, but a thought occurs. “Wait, what about your IV? He’ll notice it’s out.”

“It’s fine, I manage to rip it out all the time. He’ll blame me.”

“But won’t you get in trouble?” Bella frowns.

Asa shakes his head, “I’m already sitting in a cell. He can’t do much worse.” He laughs. It's the kind of humorless, dry laugh that Bella would associate with a war vet, not a 15 year old boy. 

“Now go,” Asa says, smile fading as quickly as it came. “Get out of here before he notices you're gone.”

Bella doesn't wait to be told again. Her mind is racing as she sneaks back up the stairs and through the halls of Adam’s compound. How can she continue on as normal, knowing that Asa’s deep underground, a plaything to a mad man? But more than that, how can she keep what she knows a secret? Every day, more and more refugees of the apocalypse seek shelter in Adam’s vast commune. They worship Adam like a king… like a god. But if they knew the truth about Adam, about Asa, about everything, they would revolt.

She slows down as she arrives at the courtyard, and one thing becomes clear.

…She has to tell them. They can't go on believing that Adam has their best interest in mind. If he'll do something this horrible to his son, then none of them stand a chance. She has to warn the others before it's too late.

Thoughts of revolution and chaos dance around Bella’s head, pulling her attention away from her surroundings. That is until she all but collides with the very person she's plotting against.

Adam steadies her shoulders with firm hands, “Woah, watch where you're going.” He chuckles. 

His suit is pressed creaseless and his hair is groomed to perfection, as always. Bella has long thought he more closely resembles a mannequin than a human. If Asa is a doll, then clearly this is where he gets it from.

“A-Adam!” Bella balks, heart and mind racing. “I'm sorry, I was just…” She trails off. Normally, she'd whip out an excuse from the tip of her tongue, lying with all the ease of a practiced politician. But it seems the day’s events have left her brain scrambled.

Adam looks her up and down with an unreadable expression. It's not unusual for him, and yet Bella can't help but feel like the word GUILTY is written on her forehead. She needs to escape his scrutiny and fast. Before she buckles completely.

Luckily, Adam clears his throat and offers his own change of subject. “So, what have you been up to?”

“O-oh, y'know, just hanging out. Taking a walk.” Bella smiles weakly. Adam replies with a smile of his own. 

“Of course, of course. It's a beautiful day.” He gestures to the wide expanse of greenery within the courtyard. Looking out at the clear blue sky, the birds flapping their wings in the distance, it's almost like nothing's changed. Like just beyond the compound walls, people aren't dying by the thousands.

“Yeah…” Bella says, taking a step back. “Anyway, I'd like to continue my walk if it's all the same to you.”

“Oh yes, excuse me.” Adam nods, and Bella takes that as her sign to get the hell out of dodge.

She begins to speed walk in the opposite direction. Is it her brightest moment? No, it's not. But right now she couldn't care less about appearing “tough.” All that matters is getting to the others, telling them the truth, and figuring out a way to bring a stop to Adam once and for all. 

She only gets a few steps away before Adam calls out behind her.

“Oh, Bella?”

She freezes.

“Y-yes?” She asks, turning slowly. Adam’s golden eyes seem to pierce directly into her soul. He smiles.

“If you’re going to lie to me, at least wash your shirt first.”

Time slows. The birds stop chirping. Her heart stops. She looks down, and to her horror, she sees Asa's shining, golden blood staining her shirt. In her hurry to leave, she'd completely forgotten about it.

When she looks back up, eyes wide, Adam is towering over her. Smile gone, replaced by a scowl.

“I- I didn’t-” Bella stammers, trying to come up with some sort of lie, but Adam silences her with a hand on her shoulder. He squeezes tight enough to leave a bruise.

“Save it.” He says. Bella’s mouth snaps shut. He stares into her eyes for a moment, as if looking for something. Before finally letting out a sigh. “I’m curious. Why risk your position here for a boy you hardly know?”

Once again, Bella wracks her brain for an answer. Why? Why did she do it? Guilt yes, but there has to be something more. And then it hits her. 

“You need to be stopped.” She whispers, voice weaker than she'd intended it to be. Adam hears her all the same. He tilts his head.

“Stop me? Why would you want that?”

Still playing the hero of humanity, even now. Even when his hands are drenched in blood, he claims to be a savior. Bella would be offended that he's still putting on an act, but it's clear that Adam truly believes in what he's saying. That's what makes him dangerous.

Bella glares, “He… Asa was right about you… every word.”

The hand on her shoulder tightens to a painful degree.

“Well, now you know what happens to people who are right about me. They end up underground, where no one can hear them scream.” Bella's eyes dart to the entrance of the basement, where Asa is sitting in his cell, alone and miserable.

“So is that what you want? To be right? Or do you want to keep living in this paradise I’ve created? With everyone else who’s wrong. The choice is yours.” Adam pauses, giving her time to think.

And Bella does think. She thinks about Asa, about what he'd choose. But in the end, it doesn't really matter what he chose, does it? He stood by his ideals and paid for it with his life. Sure, he's not dead. But the life he's living is no life at all. 

All Bella wants… all she's ever wanted is to be happy. So the question is, can she be happy living a lie? In a paradise built by blood? Can she be happy walking in the sun while Asa rots underground? She's not sure. But she's sure of one thing. 

She wants the chance to find out.

She nods, lowering her head. Adam removes his hand for a shoulder with one final squeeze.

“Go near Asa again, and you'll end up in the cell next door. Got it?” He says, and Bella doesn't doubt that he means it. She nods once more.

Adam’s smile returns, as if it never left.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

Then he walks past, whistling a happy tune, leaving Bella to think about what she's done.

[fallenwhumpee]

Tower

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Infection, delirium, post-apocalyptic settings.

"We need that supplies from the delivery," Leader started, their voice strained as the fever threatened to overpower them once again. They tightened their hold on the table, steadying their gaze. "I expect all of you to do your best, even if I won't be with you to keep your heads in line."

Youngest looked surprised, concern taking over after realising the meaning. Leader managed a smile, trying to keep their voice gentle. "I won't be joining you this time. My leg would only slow you down. But don't think you can get rid of me that easily. I'll watch over you from the tower and be in your ear every step of the way."

Right Hand assured Youngest too, but worry was clear in their eyes. Everyone had enough on their plate to be concerned about already, but on top of that Leader was burdening everyone. They clenched their fists, swallowing hard, another wave of pain consuming them. "Right Hand, walk me to the tower."

Before they could blink, Right Hand was next to them. But Leader kept walking by themselves until they were out of everyone's sight. With each step, they felt their body falter, the infection tearing them down from inside. They could feel every life depending on them and the people that would jump on them at their slightest mistake.

"Are you alright?" Right Hand asked as soon as they were alone. Swallowing, they managed a nod, but the pain was evident in their trembling limbs. They lowered themselves with Right Hand's help, their breaths laboured.

"Old age is finally catching up," they chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the situation.

"Don't say that, you're still as strong as ever."

"Oh, where is your spirit?" They stood again, letting Right Hand carry half of their weight. "Can't think of a time you'd miss the opportunity to tease me."

"Please, I—I just can't stand you joking about this. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a parent."

Perhaps the only luxury they had at the end of civilisation was the relationships they had. Leader also saw them as their child, and they feared that when the inevitable come, the one stayed behind wasn't going to handle it well.

They forced a smile as the shiver returned, trying to be supportive despite the pain fogging their thoughts. With sheer willpower, they forced their body to cooperate and stood once more, leaning on Right Hand to carry most of their weight.

As they ascended to the top of the tower, the steps grew slower, each movement burning their veins. Finally, they reached their breaking point, but Right Hand gently guided Leader to a seat, carefully placing their throbbing leg on another chair. They winced, expression crumbling with pain as the cameras flickered to life, casting a blue glow on their pale, sickly skin shining with sweat.

"You should rest," Right Hand cleared their throat. "Not deal with us."

"I will," Leader responded weakly. "When this is over. I want all of you back in one piece." Because I don't know how I can continue if something happens.

-•-

"You can trust me," Right Hand assured as they repeated the plan again, squeezing Leader's shoulder. "I'll set this up and go. You need anything?" They stood, starting to check the mics and earpieces.

"All is well."

The hardest thing was seeing Leader like this. They could do so little with the supplies they had, Leader stubbornly refusing anything because of a flu outbreak in their makeshift village.

"Press the button to talk, and keep the mic next to your mouth." They instructed, checking the cables.

"I'm just—just old. N-not ancient."

Right Hand's heart faltered as Leader's voice faded. They quickly turned back to Leader, only to see them passed out. They shook the feverish body, their breaths hitching with panic. They gasped a weak no, their one hand cupping Leader's burning cheeks.

They opened the windows, wind carrying a breeze due to the height of the tower. Desperately, they searched for something, anything for the fever. There was no medicine, but with a sudden spark of idea, they took Leader's armband, soaking it with precious water.

Their hands trembled as they wiped the sweat falling from Leader's forehead. With desperate hope, they soaked it again and placed it on the leader's forehead, hoping to bring some relief.

"Please, wake up," they didn't know what to do, so they begged. "We're not getting rid of you this easily, remember? You can't leave me— us alone."

Seconds turned into agonizing minutes, and just as Right Hand stood helpless, Leader groaned, eyes opening slightly, their gaze meeting the worried gaze of Right Hand's.

"I... I'm alright," Leader murmured weakly, their voice barely enough to be heard. "The team... needs you. Go."

"No," Right Hand almost pleaded. "I can't— I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"We can't afford to lose the chance for more supplies."

"I will get the doctor, some painkillers and fever reducers—"

"Right Hand," Leader cut sharply, the tune stopping Right Hand at their place. "We both know that the doctor is too busy, and we're running low on the latter two."

Right Hand sobbed. "I'm scared you won't wake up next time."

Leader pulled them to their chest, hugging as tight as they murmured. "I will be here when you come back with the supplies."

Reluctantly, Right Hand pulled back and nodded, their vision blurred by tears. They planted a gentle kiss on Leader's forehead before rising to their feet. With a final look of concern, they checked their gear, adjusted their earpiece, and left the tower, leaving Leader behind.

-•-

Right Hand listened to Leader's voice throught he mission, always steady and assuring. Things went smoothly, and the team was soon back in their territory with the resources.

"Mission was a succes," Leader breathed, their words laced with both satisfaction and fatigue. "You've done well. Now, rest and recover. I'll be waiting for you."

As the team regrouped and began their return to their small village, Right Hand looked for an opportunity. They dropped the supplies, slipping some into their pocket, prompting subtly for Medic to come with them and the others to help the doctor.

They rushed through the stairs, Medic shouting after them where were thry going. There was no time to answer. They barged into the tower, Leader's pained breaths greeting them. Leader stirred, but their eyes were closed, probably not aware of their arrival. Right Hand's heart ached at the sight, and they immediately knelt.

"Leader," they whispered, gently cradling the feverish body. "We're back."

Leader's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, their gaze seemed unfocused and distant. Panic surged through Right Hand as Leader didn't recognize them.

Medic finally reached the top, frozen with shock.

"Help!" Right Hand cried out, snapping Medic out of the shock, and Medic rushed to their side, ripping the leggings of the pant to reach the wound.

Leader's breathing grew ragged as Medic unwrapped the dirty bandages, their movements careful and gentle. But as Leader's fever-addled mind processed the situation, panic washed over them.

Leader struggled in Righf Hand's hold, reaching for their gun or anything they could use as weapon. Grasping the situation quickly, Right Hand threw the gun away and tightened their hold. "Leader, it's okay. Not threats around," they reassured. "Medic is here to help."

Medic spoke calmly, their trembling hands betraying their posture. "I won't harm you, Leader. This is just an injection, something that might help relieve the fever and the infection. Trust me."

Leader trashed weakly, stirring reminding Right Hand of seizures.

"You're going to be alright."

Right Hand held Leader in their arms as Medic injected a powerful antibiotic, wrapping the wound with clean bandages. Leader winced, their weakened body wracked with pain. Right Hand put their chin to Leader's head, Leader clinging to their arm like a lifeline.

As the medication took effect, a wave of relief washed over Leader's features. Right Hand felt Leader relax into their arms. Though weakened, Leader's eyes gained a flicker of clarity.

"I'm here," Right Hand murmured, "you're not alone."

"I... I thought..." Leader's voice trailed off, their words still tinged with confusion.

Right Hand gently stroked Leader's hair. "It's alright, Leader, you're safe. We are safe. Just focus on resting now."

With those words, Leader allowed themselves to drift into the soothing darkness of sleep, their body finally giving their mind a break despite the tormenting pain.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Whumptober Day 13

Kind of curious what's going to happen if I post this one. The Cars fic did really well last time, but I wonder what the reaction will be with this one. Whumptober's not doing well this year, but I honestly can't give up now!

As you can already tell, the fandom I've chosen is Cars but this fic is going to be a little bit different. I'm going to send an offering to the gods so no one strikes me down /lh. Though enough of me yapping about things that make no sense so, let's get right to it!

Read below for the juicy details of this universe!

Plot/Summary

No one had ever imagined this would happen.

Lightning visits the Weathers right before the racing season, but unfortunately the unimaginable comes to happen and nothing prepared anyone for it.

Prompt

No. 24: Radiation Poisoning

Extras/Teasers

Adopted Cal Weathers

Honorary Lightning McQueen-Weathers (Platonic)

Hurt No Comfort

Cal and Lightning Bonding

ADHD Lightning McQueen

the sky is dark tonight

Part 13 of Whumptober

It might become a series if anyone's curious!

[redd956]

Military/Postapo whump with whumpee getting help from a member(s) of a unfamiliar group or fraction.

I spent an entire day deciding if I wanted to write something based on this, or provide promts

For now: I'll provide prompts and continue an discontinued whump story that would explore this concept

Ask Based Whump Prompts

CW: Wartime/Post-Apocalypse, Violence, Torture, Captivity, Death Mention, Mass Death, Militaristic Whumpee, Militaristic Caretaker

Whumpee stirred awake, finding themselves in the bed of a clinic's tent. They shimmied back down into a comfortable position. Smiling to themselves, they assured a familiar face would come to greet them. Their little happiness fled from them at the masked and armored figure that entered.

The exhausted screech released from the heavy steel door. Opening and closing it was no longer enough to get whumpee to budge. They remained in their chains, head hung low and glazed over eyes fixated on the ground. It was only when a more than one pair of combat boots entered their peripheral vision did they truly awake.

The largest member wandered over, forcing whumpee's face towards them with a cautious movement of their hand.

"This isn't him." The stranger accepted aloud. They stood there for a moment analyzing whumpee, taking note of every bruise, their too visible ribs, and sunken eyes. "We'll take them anyway."

"What's that over there?" Caretaker's voice echoed through the abandoned corridors.

"Looks dead."

Caretaker lowered their gun, the blinding trace of their flashlight beaming through whumpee's eyelids. Whumpee thrashed awake, quickly bearing their combat knife in the air.

"Looks dead my ass."

After forcing a gas mask onto paralyzed whumpee's head, Caretaker haphazardly slung around their limp rescue trying to get a new bullet proof vest onto them. They threw the previous tattered one aside.

Barely giving whumpee a chance to understand what's going on, Caretaker dug their thumb against a bleeding puffy cluster of puncture wounds, rubbing in a fine yellowy powder. Whumpee tried to howl but their face barely moved, and a half-hearted whimper escaped from them instead.

It was then whumpee realized their every fiber felt heavy. Their fingertips twitched when they tried to move their arms. Their ankles wobbled when they tried to thrash their legs.

Caretaker hefted whumpee over their shoulder. The whole world spun into view, the unknown flag patch etched into Caretaker's shoulder, their similar looking comrades strung throughout the field, and the countless bodies dead of full body paralysis.

"This one's still kicking." Caretaker's accented voice shouted.

[lumpywhump]

OK! That poll I had about my new oc and you guys told me I could share so boom here we are get ready.

tw: mention of death

OKAY! SO! World building stuff! Post apocalyptic! There's this weird black blobby creatures that are made of liquid that roam the earth now! They only are out durning the day bc they're scared of the dark. So if you're out at night with a lamp or something ....boy you gonna be dead so fast. The monsters increase their numbers by turning people into them. Hidden within their blobbyness are teeth. And these work like zombies with this and like people like melt down and turn into a monster instantly. but like yeah this stuff and like the normal everyone is scattered and like society is completely broken down.

Mc!!! Des, hes an absolute king and I love him. He's emo.... which is very inconvenient for how hot the world is now. And he was bitten, but he's still alive? Originally his friends thought he was immune... but he isn't. He's still affected. He's slowly turning into a monster as the days roll by. And his friends are desperate to find a cure. (Heheh I love this bc he loses control of himself a lot bc the monster part of him is trying to attack his friends and he gets sick a lot bc the wound where he was bitten doesn't heal and his body is trying to fight off the infection) He also has issues with other people, like if they find out he's not fully human anymore they would one thousand percent try to kill him.

Haley: Des' best friend. She tries to be optimistic, but that's hard now a days. She feels guilty bc Des got bit when he was defending her. She's willing to fight the monsters, but she doesn't have the stomach for hurting humans, so she leaves that up to Des and Missy.

Missy: she's pretty much like their mom. She would do anything to make sure her kids stay alive, even if it means hurting them. She can be a little too blood thirsty, but it's all to protect her kids right????? (Ps she's also such an asshole❤️)

Joules: Haley's sister MONSTER

The unnamed scientist dude: he's new to the party. He joined when Missy tried stealing med supplies from him and he told her he was a doctor and was willing to see if he could help their sick friend. (at this point they didn't know he was turning into a monster) he was there when Des started coughing up the black liquid of the monsters and they all realized it wasn't any ordinary illness. Scientist is hellbent on finding a cure, his family was taken from him by the monsters and he's determined to find a way to bring them back. He gives us a lot of lab whump with Des bc with his special case he experiments on him a lot to find what's different about him and how to make it strong enough to reverse the effects of the Mother. He's also not the most ethical and is very much willing to hurt Des if needed but he's low key attached to the kids.

The Mother: the original monster. No one knows where she is... no one knows where she came from... she want to spread herself

I love Des he's so emo and he gets so sick and I love how he can't trust himself anymore as the monster takes over him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Plus bc the monsters are scared of the dark, the more the infection spread the more he's scared of the dark and I love it bc it's so sad in the future bc he's so scared and he can't sleep and he's sobbing but he can't have a light, if he did all the monsters in the area would come after his friends)

[generic-whumperz]

“The Aid” (Character Sheet)

How it began /vs/ where we are now (Picrew)

Playlist | Vibes | Ability Breakdown | Masterlist | Character Info |

Overview: The morning after his 18th birthday, a Mystic telepathic empath sells himself into high-class slavery at a Chattel Services Inc. facility in order to help his family flee from a war-ravaged and disease-ridden post-apocalyptic world. Stripped of his name, he is addressed only by his newly appointed ID number and later his trained designation title—The Aid. He is quickly bought by Madame Eleanor Sullivan, a So-Cal socialite, and the prestigious Sullivan family matriarch, to serve her as her live-in caregiver and confidant. After her death five years later, The Aid is bequeathed to Eleanor’s troubled and sadistic son, Wyatt. Surviving a year and a half of Wyatt’s draconian rein as his new Master, The Aid’s once plentiful optimism runs out when Wyatt’s relentless torture has no end in sight. That is, until one fateful day, a bloody and badly wounded stranger is brought to him, reigniting his hope for escape.  

Full name: [REDACTED]

Role: Main lead protagonist (Caretaker turned Whumpee)

Date of Birth & sign: February 10, 2007 (25), Aquarius (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: *perpetually confused*

Height: 5’5”

Weight/body type/build: (when not being starved) slender with lean muscle, more on the petite side with compact features; ideally he likes being 135-ish lbs (currently 125lbs soaking wet)

Hometown: Cincinnati, Ohio

Family Members: [REDACTED]

Left/right handed: ambidextrous

Fav genre of music & anthem: alternative/indie, Devil's Advocate by The Neighbourhood

Occupation: slave; designation: Grand Servant, Mystic Domestic Home Aid (professional bitch)

Ethnicity (+ American): white boi (European origin— mostly British, Scottish, Polish, Norwegian, Swedish, and German)

Hair color & length: chocolate brown; (ideally) cropped short, longer on top, brushed to the side. Straight, but slightly wavy when grown out. Facial hair: ideally clean shaven and well-groomed elsewhere, doesn’t have much body hair, will shave it off regardless.

Hygiene: very clean and hygienic, hates being dirty and smelly, takes immense pride in his physical appearance. The kind of guy that has a 10-step skin routine and loves nothing more than new skin care products.

Eye color: chestnut brown. Large almond-shaped hooded eyes, wears glasses

Skin tone: very fair with blue/cool undertones

Facial features: combo of squared & rounded head, square jaw with strong & pointed chin, pointy lips with prominent Cupid’s bow & heavy lower lip, droopy & downturned nose (now with a jagged bend on the bridge from a few badly healed breaks), manicured straight brows with slight soft rounded arch, squared ears that stick out slightly

Mannerisms: internal dialogue/thoughts do not always match spoken words and actions. Confines most facial expression to his eyes which are constantly shifting around and observing surroundings. Small half-smiles that don't reach his eyes. Silent sighs a lot. Generally very still and goes unnoticed. Quiet, soft steps. Mild-mannered. Feels too much all of the time. On high alert. Small nods and head tilts. Lip/side of mouth twitches when thinking hard, confused, or on edge. Shifts jaw a lot.

Nervous ticks: flushes/blushes, rubs fingertips, picks at cuticles/skin picking, chews/sucks in bottom lip, avoids eyes contact & keeps head down, eyes dart, stiff body language, balls hands into fists, lip & cheek twitches, occasional nose rubbing

Posture: straight and proper (currently doing the best he can)

Style: Whatever Madame Eleanor dressed him in! Usually wearing his custom designer Aid uniform complete with a metal o-ring collar. When at home, usually just in lounge wear.

Health: Originally very healthy before all the torture started and was very active. Former high school track star. Now has chronic pain and is addicted to painkillers. Currently in physical therapy and can’t walk for extended periods of time. Vegetarian. Known allergies: shellfish, penicillin, pineapple, pollen, chamomile, nickel metal, dust. Mental health is in the gutter (on anti-psychotic, mood stabilizer, and neuron blocker to nullify his telepathic abilities), anxious, depressed, suffering from psychosis. Having a bad time. Now missing some teeth and has a chipped tooth from Wyatt beating him up.

Piercings/tattoos: ears pierced and has 24k gold ear cuff. One tattoo on upper left shoulder of his CSI given ID number: 070210

Birthmarks/scars: too many scars to count at this point. But noticeable ones on face: long, u-shaped cut spanning under right cheek, a vertical nic on the tip of chin, and a long faint slice across his left temple. 1.5” scar on right palm and top of hand that he usually keeps covered up/hidden from himself. Born with a bilateral cleft lip and now has two C-shaped scars running between the points of his lip and nostrils.

Language(s): English, some Spanish

Personality: before Wyatt—happy, warm and approachable, charming, compassionate, helpful, confident, obedient, subservient, well-mannered, thoughtful, self-sacrificing people-pleaser. With Wyatt—combative, snappy & short, paranoid, jumpy, nervous, closed off and cold, angsty, vengeful, hopeless, depressive.

Vices: weed, panic cleans

Voice: measured, even tone, modulated and silvery. Typical North American accent.

Smells like: clean, zesty and sweet, like aloe, cactus flower, with a hint of citrus.

Face claim(s): I have been going back and forth with this forever. No one will quite look exactly like him, but I’ve finally concluded, after much deliberation, that he looks a combination of Iwan Rheon (left and top middle) and this random Russian guy I found on Pinterest, Arseniy Popov (bottom middle & right). However, both of them are a bit older than he is, so just 🌈imagine🌈 them aged down a little bit. Also, yes, it’s more than ironic that the guy who plays one of Wyatt’s character inspirations, Ramsy fucking Bolton, is also an Aid face claim. Full circle moment or cosmic horror? You decide.

This pic is slay and serving cunt (judging plebs with Eleanor)

Character inspiration: personality and ability-wise only—Deanna Troi (Star Trek TNG), June Osborne (Handmaid’s Tale), Peta Mellark (Hunger Games), Will Graham (NBC Hannibal)

Other: has two trackers, one embedded in his back between shoulder blades, the other in the back of his neck.

Character sheet filled out from his POV, post-Wyatt

[befuddled-calico-whump]

What's a niche/uncommon whump thing you love? (Could be a trope, whump for a specific character, a setting, anything)

even if I haven't done it much myself, I love a good apocalypse/post-apocalyptic setting (more Mad Max than Walking Dead though, I'm not a huge zombie fan)

sort of adjacent to that, dystopian settings! I don't know if I've seen much whump on here with those but they're so fun

[defire]

Ghost of Seattle Chapter 38

Previous chapter

Content: bullying, ableism, autistic whumpee, gang war

"Sela, he is really a ghost. He moves without touching the ground.”

"He screamed like hell when we broke his shin. I think he's just a guy."

It had been about a week. Ghost heard chaos outside in the hall, people talking excitedly. The way they did when they were getting ready for a raid. 

"What's going on?" Ghost called out, limping into the hall on crutches.

"Get out of the way!" Someone shoved him into the wall.

Ghost ducked back into someone else's room; the door was open. No one was inside.

Suddenly he caught Amherst's eye as the man hurried toward him.

"Amherst! What's going on?" Ghost called to him.

Amherst looked annoyed, but he moved through the stream of people to where Ghost stood in the doorway.

"There's been a message from the Cult. We're attacking immediately."

"What can I do?"

"Just fuckin--go be a sentry. Grab a crossbow."

Ghost nodded and hurried to do as Amherst said.

He felt goddamn useless, watching Shivers pour out in their disorganized, energetic way.

He had a loaded crossbow and 2 extra bolts. And he doubted very much he could load the other 2, with one hand.

Maybe he could afford to just, fracture his left arm a teeny bit more. If he did, he'd better be ready to see Able cry.

"I'm not ready." He said to the crossbow.

"First time?" Another sentry, 10 feet away, asked.

Ghost looked up. It was an albino girl, much more covered up than he was.

"Not really. You don't know me?" Ghost asked.

The girl laughed.

"I was being sarcastic."

Ghost swallowed and look down, embarrassed. 

"Seriously though," She said. "How could a psycho like you be scared right now?"

Ghost glanced at her, then back down at the ridiculous crossbow cradled in his right arm.

"Psycho?" He said.

"Yeah, ya know, psycho, no feelings beyond pure murderous instinct," She said like she was quoting something she'd heard a hundred times.

"I'm a psycho?" 

"I hear you have like, no hesitation. You just kill like it's no big deal. No remorse. Is that all true?"

Ghost frowned.

"I guess so? It all happens so fast. There's the target, so I kill them. It's pretty simple, I guess."

"You never worry about, their family, or something?"

"...Should I?" He said.

"I bet you're just like, 'I'm just following orders, that's it.'" She said in an overly-deep voice.

Ghost looked at her. It sounded like she was mocking him, but he couldn't tell what was wrong with following orders.

She stared, mouth falling open.

"That's--that's literally what you're thinking, isn't it."

"...What else would I be thinking?"

She burst into laughter, and wouldn't speak to him for awhile. And the explosions, flares and gunshots started.

They came back after what felt like a terribly long time, and they were running, chased by white-robed Cultists with bright yellow crosses like targets on their chests or backs.

Ghost aimed the crossbow, looking down the bolt itself because there were no sights, hoping that would be good enough. 

He fired carefully into the group of Cultists, not willing to risk hitting their own. The albino girl to his right picked off 3 with her rifle while he was trying to aim. The trigger was clumsy, and despite bracing it against his chest and the windowsill, it kicked weirdly and it almost hit him in the face.

He pursed his lips and grabbed another bolt. It was hard enough to get it into the channel, but he got out of breath straining different ways to load it onto the string, or something. With one hand, no less.

"Need some help?" The sniper girl said.

Ghost was gonna ignore her, but she was actually focusing on him waiting for an answer. 

"No." He said, like she was stupid for asking. 

Then he reddened as he kept failing to string the crossbow.

Shivers ran up and filled the second level. They must've already gated and set guards downstairs. Defense plans were to get main forces defending the perimeter buildings, then demolish them if needed and get further in. Oldman called it "scorched earth plus castle", whatever that meant. 

"What's a cripple doing in here?" Someone shouted.

Ghost knew it was at him--he was very conscious of his cast and crutches.

"Hey." The sniper clapped at him.

Ghost glanced at her as he snatched his crutches away from a Shiver, who was about to kick them away.

The girl swung a handgun across the concrete, and it stopped at his leg.

"Take it." She said. "Leave the stupid crossbow."

Ghost took it with a nod, stuffing it into his baggy front pocket. 

He fumbled with the stupid crutches, glancing once more at the girl.

She held up 4 fingers. 

He hobbled out, wondering why for a minute. Oh. 4 rounds.

Tag list: @joyjoygorl @cepheusgalaxy @little-rat-dragon sorry for not seeing you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Kindle book: Masterpost: Next: